


Don't Stop Now

by soupy



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/F, It's all just a joke, silly dumb smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7663483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soupy/pseuds/soupy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stopping at a tavern for the night, the Mord'Sith and Mother Confessor entertain the establishment, but it's all just a misunderstanding. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I'm switching over some works from FF.net. These works are pretty old, like years old. Please bare with me here, although not new to AO3 I have never posted here before.  
> Have fun rereading if you've seen these before. If you haven't, well, enjoy.  
> And I honestly have no fucking clue how to tag this. Open for suggestions.

It was the most embarrassing thing she had ever done, asking this of the Mother Confessor, but who else could she turn to? She wasn't in a temple surrounded by her willing sisters anymore, and Richard, though he denied the title, was still her Lord Rahl and asking her master to service her in such a way would be unacceptable. And never, not in a thousand years, not if he were the last person to walk the Creator's green land with her, would Cara ever, EVER, ask the wizard. Besides, he probably didn't have the strength to get the job done right. So she had to rely on Kahlan, who surprisingly seemed willing enough to help out.

"Harder."

"I'm trying."

"Harder, Kahlan!"

"Dammit, Cara, do you want this or not?"

Cara gripped the edge of the bed, her knuckles white with the force and effort she put into holding herself in place as Kahlan worked between her legs. A sheen of sweet was building on the Confessor's brow and every so often she released a less then lady like grunt with her efforts. Cara honestly couldn't tell if Kahlan was enjoying this or not. She seemed to be in deep concentration for most of it, like she was plotting her moves three turns ahead. 

The blond let out a guttural wail of frustration. It wasn't happening fast enough for her.

"When I asked you, I was confident in your abilities. I've seen you take on a squad of D'Harans. You've marched days on end with little sleep and barely any water, and yet you can't handle fifteen minutes with a Mord'Sith. I thought you had stamina."

"Don't try to pass this off as a fault with me, this is your issue. Besides, this is an entirely different situation, my arms aren't use to it and they're tiring quickly. 

Kahlan arched her back, hoping to gain more maneuverability. "This position just isn't working. Scoot back a little and hold the bed above your head."

Cara did as instructed and Kahlan held both her legs, wrapping them around her middle. 

"What are you doing?" the blond questioned.

"I just want to try it this way."

"It's not going to work."

"How would you know?"

"How would I know? How would I know?" Cara shot off. "I've been doing it longer then you have, that's how I know."

"Can I just try?"

"There's no point."

Kahlan tore Cara's legs away from her and stepped away from the agonizing job she hadn't imagined being so difficult. Cara had made it sound almost too easy. She should have known the Mord'Sith's needs exceeded her talents.

Cara shot up from her lying position, agitation spreading across her face at Kahlan's sudden disappearance. 

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

Kahlan plopped herself down in the chair across from the bed and let her sore, over worked arms dangle at her sides. "I just need a break."

"What? No breaks. We're close, it's so close, I swear. You just need to find the right rhythm. You know, one two three, one two three."

Cara was given a dead faced glare. "If you're so good at it then why not do it yourself? Like you said, you've been doing it a lot longer then I have. Maybe I could learn something if I just sat here and watched."

A blond eyebrow arched and Cara's pout slowly transformed into a sly smile. "I find that the best way to learn is hands on experience." Kahlan just rolled her eyes.

With a deep breath Kahlan lifted herself back up and plodded back to the edge of the bed. Cara's face lit up when Kahlan took her legs in her hands once more and she eagerly assumed her position on the bed. 

"Seriously, Cara, we're ending this. I don't I have it in me to continue any further."

The steady rocking started once more, and soon it turned into a near frenzied jerking. Kahlan was reaching her end, and it didn't matter how close Cara thought it was, she couldn't hold on much longer. 

"Keep going, Kahlan. Don't stop, don't stop."

With one last surge, Kahlan released all she had. With a shout her body tipped and she felt herself floating backwards, taking Cara's tension with her. Cara felt it too, felt it slipping away with great relief. Her body relaxed and she sighed. 

Cara took a moment to revel in her newly acquired release before sitting up. When she finally pushed herself up, Kahlan was standing above her looking tired, sweaty and slightly disheveled. Cara couldn't help herself.

"You look like you've been having sex all night."

Kahlan wasn't as amused by it as Cara was. She didn't even crack a smile. She was too tired, her arms hurt from strenuous use and when she had landed with a thump on the floor, she realized that everyone in the rooms surrounding could probably hear everything that had gone on and probably thought exactly what Cara had said. All those things added up to an annoyed Mother Confessor.

"Next time, Cara, don't tie the laces so tight." And with that, Kahlan shoved Cara's boots into her chest and left the room.


	2. Common Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut time

The tavern had been dead silent for near half a candle mark. It wasn't closed, quite the opposite really. It was filled to capacity and shocked into an attentive hush.

It had been bustling evening, with news of the seeker being in town half the village was trying to push through the doors of the tiny wooden box of a public watering hole just to get a peek at the mythic hero or the legendary beauty of the Mother Confessor. One would think the village was being raided by banelings that shot fire from their eyes the way people were fighting to get inside. The tavern owner been very pleased with the turn out - he hadn't served that many mugs of ale since wooden nickel night six years prior – and he invited the seeker team to visit as often as they'd like, except maybe the Mord'Sith, she a had a way about her that curbed merriment. The whole time she was down stairs she stood at the corner of the bar looking painfully agitated, as if that skin tight leather she wore were too tight. Finally, after what seemed like an entire evening of watcher her watch him and the rest of the crowd like spiders in a jar, the tavern owner saw the Mord'Sith slither her way through the crowd and press herself up against the Mother Confessor's side.  
The tavern owner couldn't hear exactly what was said between the two women, the din of the crowd was over powering, but he saw the Mord'Sith's eyes flash down and away from the Mother Confessor's. Soon after that the two moved away from the bar and headed upstairs to the room the tavern owner almost didn't give them simply because he didn't want a Mord'Sith patronizing his establishment. If it wasn't for the Seeker vouching for his so-called friend and the wizard ordering enough food to feed a host of gars, the tavern owner would have insisted she sleep outside the city gate. It was soon after their departure that the exhibition had begun.  
The building was old, and the sounds of creaking floor boards and voices passing through walls was common, but when it took to a scale of what was happening currently there was no way to ignore it. Mouths dropped open, drinks where sunk, many women left mortified, some women stayed, the occasional hat was placed in a lap to disguise a rising interest. Each thump, each groan (feminine or otherwise), each shout of strained ecstasy was collected and held onto by all patrons sitting at a heated attention. All save two.  
"It's not what you all think. It isn't loud enough," piped in Zedd between sucking meat from bone and juice from fingers. No one paid a cent's worth of attention to him. The rattling floor boards pitched with ferocity as the weight they supported shifted directions.  
A muffled exclamation was heard, "By the Creator, it's so tight," and two dozen dry throats were slaked in a deluged of flat ale. Zedd just raised his bushy eyebrows and rolled his eyes under them. Trying to convince a hoard of ruttish townsfolk that the two women upstairs weren't copulating like a pair of shadrin in heat wasn't worth letting his dinner go cold.  
Richard for his part stayed quiet. Fuming, but quiet. Isn't wasn't the two upstairs he was angry at, well, perhaps a bit, but it was more at the inhabitants of the tavern. He couldn't stand them thinking those things about Kahlan - about the Mother Confessor - and a small part of him, because his chivalry got in the way, couldn't having them thinking about Cara in that way either.  
"Don't let it get to you my boy."  
"How could I not?" Richard seethed through his teeth. "I know that they're not doing- you know, that, so how come no one else-"  
"Kahlan don't stop." This was followed by a much larger thud then heard previously, and Richard wondered if either one of them had injured the other.  
"That's why." Zedd dropped the last chicken bone on to his plate and wiped his hands clean on a greasy napkin. "Perhaps you should go intervene."  
Richard gave a crisp nod, picked up Kahlan's pack- which she had left at his feet for safe keeping and intended on returning for later- and he shoved a path through the transfixed crowd to the stairway. 

Richard had just crest the top step when Kahlan immerged from the room pressing the wrinkles from her skirt and untwisting tangles from her long brown hair.  
"Kahlan." Richard stepped up to stop her progression; he couldn’t let her go back down stairs.  
"Richard-," Kahlan noticed what he had in his hand, "you brought my backpack."  
"Yeah, I don't think it would be a good idea for you to go back downstairs right now, maybe not until morning."  
Kahlan just shook her head in confusion and stepped past Richard, leaving him to hold her pack just a little while longer. "I don't know what you mean by that."  
"Kahlan, don't." It was a rather futile attempt on Richard's part, but Kahlan was stopped dead on the third step down by the wolf whistles, bawdy laughter, and offers of a round of drinks.  
It took a long second for her to realize, and when she did mortifying embarrassment rushed her back to the landing.  
"The whole place? Everyone? Every one of them heard?"  
Richard just nodded wide-eyed and sympathetic. Any trace of embarrassment melted off and turned furry as Kahlan's grabbed her pack from Richard's hand. The last he saw of her for the night was a flourish of dark locks as she stormed back into the room and shut the door loudly behind her.

Cara shifted on the bed, it was hard to find a spot that wasn't lumpy or sunk in, and the whole thing moved when she moved - the legs barely held the thing off the ground. She didn't like the bed, in fact she loathed it. Richard certainly had a talent for picking the most unworthy spots in a village. He would same something about down home charm, which made her wonder if all of Westland was as much of a hole as these rat infested inns he always picked. For the moment though she would just enjoy the bed for what it was not, a pile of musty leaves and a moth eaten bedroll.  
She had finally found a spot that worked for her and relinquished a sigh when the door opened, slammed again, and something large and coarse was flung at her.  
"Cara!"  
"Kahlan!" Cara pushed the pack off her chest and lifted her head to view Kahlan's temper ridged face.  
"They heard."  
"Who heard what?"  
"They, the whole blessed town heard us and now they think-" Kahlan couldn't hide the blush that spread across her freckled cheeks.  
Cara raised an eyebrow in understanding. "They think you and I-"  
"Yes."  
"Well, that's not so bad. I mean, we weren't really."  
"No, but they think we were, and that's the problem. I can't have people think you and I roam the country side having strident intercourse."  
"But we do."  
Cara was shot a shaming glare. "That's beside the point." But to Cara it wasn’t. It was now the entire point. Why should people think things about her that weren't true? That would make her a fraud, and Cara was anything but a liar. She would have to set the little town straight.  
"You know," Cara began as she tugged at her gloves, "many rulers are admired for their sexual prowess."  
"Cara." Kahlan understood Cara's intentions. She may not be able to read a Mord'Sith, but she could read body language and Cara used it as if it were her native tongue. The flash of green eyes, the way she nibbled on her lower lip, it made it very hard for Kahlan to lower her eyes and turn away in an attempt to admonish.  
"It's common knowledge. Why, even I didn't just climb through the ranks of my sisters on sheer ruthlessness alone. You even said that you felt your connection to your people slipping. Why not take this chance to reestablish their sense of respect for you? Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor, bedder of Mord'Sith… Stud." By this time Cara had gotten both gloves off and was slinking towards Kahlan while loosening the laces of her top.  
"Cara, stop."  
"Why, is the though exciting you?" Cara reached up to cup Kahlan's jaw and gave her lips the slightest flick with her tongue.  
Kahlan's defenses shattered and she took hold of Cara's belt and walked her backwards toward the shabby bed. "I really hate it when you make sense."  
"And I love it when you realize that I do."  
Richard was the only one enjoying the lack of noise coming from the room above the tavern. When he had marched back down the stairs triumphant in his assurance that no more noise was going to come from the two women, he was met with a string of aggravated glares and even one bold "Way to kill it, Seeker."  
He dropped himself back into his seat next to Zedd, who in the amount of time it had taken Richard to walk up stairs then back down had, ordered another full plate of chicken and vegetables. Richard picked up his drink and was about to put it to his mouth when he was nudged strongly from behind. Richard sought out the one who did it, but picking an angry face out of that particular crowed would be a difficult task, even more the Seeker of Truth.  
"Suddenly all the merriment has gone?" Richard said loud enough so the people around him would hear his mocking.  
"Richard, my boy, you seem to be a great wizard indeed."  
"How so Zedd?"  
"Because you've managed to perform a trick not even I am capable of." Richard just lifted his eyebrows waiting to hear of this powerful magic he didn't know he possessed. "You've managed to cockblock two and half dozen people without a wag of your little finger."  
Richard scoffed. "Well that's fine by me. What kind of friend would I be if-" a loud bang shook the rafters above Richard's head and he was peppered with a thin layer of dust. All eyes shot back to the ceiling.  
"Use you teeth," rolled through the dining hall and cheers from the crowd roared in response. Richard and Zedd exchanged a look.  
"Perhaps they're trying to get her gloves off?" the wizard offered, but as soon as the words left his mouth something, perhaps a water pitcher, was tossed to the floor of the room upstairs and shattered.  
"Care to go for a walk?"  
"My boy, I think that might be for the best."

 

Time had lost meaning inside the room upstairs; Kahlan had stopped caring about it, about the people down stairs, even about the wash basin and small table they had broken – she had told Cara she didn't think it would hold their weight, but Cara could be rather insistent when she wanted to be. No, nothing much mattered at this moment except riding out her release. Wrestling Cara into a position she found pleasurable had taken precious time – she could be very obstinate when it came to submission – but eventually she had seen things Kahlan's way and relented. Kahlan figured rolling over was the least she could do as it was Cara's aggressive knot tying that had started everything.  
"Unnh, Cara," Kahlan husked as with one last roll of her hips she slackened her hold on both power and arousal, releasing them from her body to hover like cirrus around her. Her entire form shook as she lowered her chest to Cara's warm back and pressed her lips to her lover's skin. Cara didn't prefer the slow, passionate love making Kahlan did, which made it all the more satisfying when she allowed it.  
"You're so-" Kahlan stopped her sentence when a sound that was half breath half snort escaped from Cara. Fingers brushed aside flaxen strands to reveal firmly shut eyes that contrasted the slightly agape mouth. A steady breath was sucked in and it rumbled at the back of Cara's throat, and Kahlan was left scandalized.  
As quickly as she slid away, Kahlan brought her hand down with a loud and gratifying slap across Cara's backside.  
The blond snapped out of her light sleep with a jerk. "Oww."  
"You fell asleep?"  
"Wha?"  
Kahlan's hand came down again, deepening the red painted across Cara's rear. "I can't believe you fell asleep."  
"I'm sorry," Cara groaned as she rubbed the sting from her skin. Blinking her eyes she looked up at Kahlan's frowning face. "Do you need me to finish you off?"  
"No."  
"Then what's the problem?"  
"The problem is you fell asleep."  
"You were taking too long. I may be Mord'Sith, but even I find there are some tortures I can't sit through."  
Kahlan gasped at Cara's goading and struck again, but this time Cara lunged up and pressed herself to the confessor's still sweat warmed body and stared menacingly into blue eyes.  
"Stop that."  
"Or what?" Kahlan egged with another tap.  
Cara took hold of Kahlan sensitive left nipple and twisted, eliciting a moan that was lined with something other than pain. "That's what."  
The two kneeled in front of each other, testing the resolve of the other, Kahlan's hand drawn back, and Cara's fingers keeping a vice on the small pink bud. Blue burned into green, and hot breath pushed hot breath. All sleep had been washed from Cara and Kahlan was starting to feel the heat rise again. The brunette's hand struck, the blonde's fingers twisted, there was a yelp and a moan followed by a quick hiss and the meeting of lips.  
Quick pecks became passionate, fueled by a feverish need as hands grasped at skin and hair. In panting breaths forced out between sucking bites, words managed to slip by.  
"Don't you dare think about nodding off this time."  
"Not as long as we get to do things my way," Cara said as she wrapped Kahlan up in her arms and fell backwards onto the bed with her.  
The bed wobbled upon the impact of their entwined bodies and the snapping of three separate wooden legs sounded.  
"Creator's ass, I hate this bed!"

 

Cara rose early the next morning from the straw filled mattress she and Kahlan had pull to the floor – both had given up sleeping on the bed at the ridiculous angle it was perched at. She quickly collected her leathers and rummage through Kahlan's pack to pull out her spare dress, since the one she wore the day before had gotten soaked through by the water from the broken basin, and then headed downstairs to the tavern proper.  
The mood had seemed to change over night. Instead of the usual stares of fear, hate, and uncertainty, Cara was met with knowing looks and smile, and 'good mornings' that were too cheerful for her taste. Even the tavern owner, who would have her sleep in a pig's wallow then in his dry rotted hole in the wall, stopped his redundant polishing of the battered bar top to inquire about her night's rest.  
"The bed was horrible and I would have preferred if you had forced me to sleep in the bed of a wagon behind the smithy, but-" Cara could hear Richard and Kahlan's scolding running through her mind about how she should at least try to lessen the blow of her blunt honesty, "-but I thank you for your hospitality nonetheless."  
The tavern owner offered her a confused but honest, "You're welcome."  
"The Mother Confess and I would also like to apologize for any disturbances we may have caused last night." Reaching to her belt, Cara un-tucked a small purse she kept and removed six gold coins. She placed them on the bar in front of the owner, this was another lesson drummed into her by those she traveled with. "I'd also like to compensate for any damages caused to your-" pit of squalor "-establishment. I'm sure that will be enough to purchase a bed of superior craftsmanship than the last one."  
The tavern owner smiled and took only half. "The carpenter is a friend of mine and won't charge me that much."  
Cara nodded that she found this fair and turned back to the stairs. She didn't bother to stop when the tavern owner called out to her, "You and the Mother Confessor are welcomed back anytime you please." She had no clue that he didn't really need the money she offered. Half after midnight, when word spread through town, the crowd of people trying to get into the tavern was beginning to wrap around the side. Being the venturing business man that he was, the tavern owner began to charge admission and require a two drink minimum. He had taken in enough money not only to replace the bed in the now infamous room, but he had enough to refurbish all five of the rooms and build on an extension.  
"Long live the Mother Confessor," the tavern owner said to himself and he resumed his polishing.


End file.
